Izuru and Shuhei Start a Talk Show
by Lacrimosa Cruentus Luna
Summary: "Wait. What is this word?" Izuru demanded, staring confused at what looked like a black blob. "Show," Shuhei hissed between gritted teeth. "The Late Night Shinigami Show." Prisoners, MILFs, angry captains, and other shenanigans ensue.
1. Chapter 1

**I write too much... Is there going to be OOCness? Possibly. More like probably. That's the way I love it. But then again, they're all drunk, so maybe it doesn't really qualify as OOC. **

**Bleach isn't mine, but if it was...no. No. I told myself I was done going there. Done, I tell you. Done! Oh well. **

* * *

><p>The lights shined down brightly upon two lieutenant shinigami, both of whom were smiling drunkenly down at their one-woman-audience, also known as an equally drunk Rangiku. Everyone ignored the strange, muffled thumps coming from a near-by cupboard. The two hosts, Izuru and Shuhei, rifled through the papers scattered across the desk they were sharing.<p>

"Get on with the show already!" Rangiku shouted, waving her last bottle of sake around emphatically.

"We're getting to it!" Shuhei shouted back irritably. He flipped through more papers before finding the one he wanted and handing it to Izuru.

"Hello, and welcome to The Late Night Shinigami—wait. What is this word?" Izuru demanded, staring confused at what looked like a black blob.

"Show," Shuhei hissed between gritted teeth. "The Late Night Shinigami _Show_."

"Oh," Izuru said. "Right. Anyway, I'm your host, Izuru and this is my friend, Shuhei."

"Hey! I'm a host, too!" Shuhei said reproachfully.

"He's a host, too," Izuru repeated dutifully.

"You guys _suck_!" Rangiku hollered. "What the hell is this stupid show about anyway?"

"If you would just shut_ up_, I'll tell you," Izuru said crossly.

"What are you gonna do if I don't?" Rangiku snorted. "Angst at me with your emo haircut?"

"The show," Shuhei interrupted before Izuru could run off and cry in a corner, "is about us talking about stuff."

"That's even stupider than the tattoo on your face," Rangiku informed him solemnly. Shuhei shot a dark look at her, but kept his temper.

"So, what are we scheduled to talk about anyway?" he asked, despite the fact that he had come up with it himself. Izuru went through even more papers covered in Shuhei's handwriting.

"We're supposed to talk about...whoa. Tell me I'm reading this wrong." Izuru forced the paper in his co-host's hands.

"'Creepy people,'" Shuhei read aloud. "No, yeah, that's right."

An awkward silence filled the room.

"To be fair, there's actually some super creepy people to talk about," Rangiku inserted, still forgetting that she was supposed to be the audience and not share her opinion at all. "Like you, Izuru!"

"Ouch," Shuhei said, smirking slightly.

"Captain Kurotsuchi is creepier," Izuru snapped. He couldn't stop himself from wondering why it was always him people picked on, not realizing that it probably has something to do with...with...well, he's just a really easy guy to pick on, okay?

"Definitely creeper material," Shuhei said, nodding. "But what about Ichimaru?"

"Gin is gone, idiot," Rangiku growled, reaching for Haineko slowly.

"Yeah, but when he was here he was creepy," Shuhei continued obliviously. Some people are just so insensitive when they're drunk...

"It was a good kind of creepy," Izuru protested.

"Says the guy who was totally gay for him," Shuhei muttered under his breath.

"Oi! Don't say that on live TV!" Izuru said, jumping up. It was the most alive anyone had ever seen him, but that wasn't the only reason Shuhei and Rangiku were blown away.

"So it's _true_?" Rangiku gasped.

"Of course not!" Izuru sputtered, choking on the last word. "I just—why don't—can't we get on with the show?"

"The show," Shuhei said. "Right, the show. So we have a guest here to talk about creepy people with us. Go ahead and bring out Ikkaku."

Ikkaku blinked as he was pulled out of his temporary prison—the near-by cupboard previously mentioned—by Izuru. He was still tied up and wondering just how the hell these psychotic people managed to get the jump on him.

"We drugged and kidnapped him earlier today for the sole purpose of being a guest on our show," Shuhei reported to the audience, not even batting an eyelash. This may or may not have been what sent Ikkaku into a flying rage of fists and profanities, but eventually Rangiku got enough sake in him to calm him down and he became the perfect guest—for a show run by Izuru and Shuhei anyway.

"Creepy people?" Ikkaku asked. "Ehhh, what about Ichimaru?"

"..."

"Never mind then."

"Maybe we just...shouldn't talk about creepy people," Izuru suggested.

"But then what should we talk about?" Shuhei asked, exasperated.

"Short people!" Rangiku shouted. "Talk about short people!"

"Why?" Izuru asked.

"Everybody loves short people," Ikkaku cut in. "They're so...short."

"Who do we know who's short?" Izuru mused, staring off into space. Snow swirled around the windows and everyone in the room knew there was _someone_ who they knew, someone very important, but they just couldn't remember the name.

"Well, there's Lieutenant Kusajishi," Izuru offered. Ikkaku shuddered at the thought of the pink-haired monster. Yachiru had already spat on his head three times that day.

"No," he said. "Don't even talk about her. Isn't there anyone else?"

"There's Rukia," Rangiku piped up.

"Thank you, audience," Shuhei said in an attempt to make the show stay "authentic."

"She is pretty short," Izuru murmured. Then he perked his head up and asked curiously, "Do you think that's why she's getting rescued all the time?"

"Height has nothing to do with anything," Shuhei argued, pleased that the show was getting onto a normal sort of track.

Ikkaku was happy to add, "He's right. Orihime is always getting kidnapped, too. In fact, all of Ichigo's friends are constantly getting kidnapped which is why Ichigo is always running around saving them. I think Ichigo just hangs out with people who frequently need to be rescued to feed his hero-complex."

"Yeah, and just think about my captain!" Rangiku said. "He's a midget, but he has his badass moments!"

And just like that, all four drunk shinigami then realized where their desire to talk about short people had come from. Conversation struck up immediately.

"I saw Captain Ukitake give him candy once," Izuru snickered.

"I saw it more than once," Shuhei said. "And _that_ was kind of creepy."

"Everywhere I go with him people are always mistaking him for my kid." Rangiku pouted. "Do I look like I could be a mother?"

That was a question no one felt the need to answer. They'd already gone through the whole MILF thing more than once. And Rangiku didn't even _have_ kids.

"Stop talking, Rangiku!" Shuhei complained. "You're the audience!"

"Shut up," Rangiku replied.

"We don't give him enough credit," Ikkaku said, lost in thought. "I mean, he's so easy to make fun of and he gets no appreciation for it! What he needs is an award."

"An _award_!" Shuhei shouted.

"Or maybe a title," Izuru said, nodding.

"A _title_!" Shuhei repeated even more loudly.

"It has to be original," Izuru said. "Extremely unique."

"His title can be...'Shortest Shinigami'!" Ikkaku concluded after much thought on the subject.

"That's brilliant!" Shuhei crowed, knocking his drinking buddy onto the ground. Still tied up, Ikkaku rolled around helplessly until he hit his head and was knocked unconscious.

That was when Toushiro Hitsugaya himself came rushing in, fire in his eyes. Or maybe ice, if you want to make a nice pun about it.

There was a moment where no one spoke as the captain who had only moments before achieved title of "Shortest Shinigami" surveyed the mess that had once been his office.

It appeared as if the drunk idiots in front of him had attempted to use it as a studio. There were no cameras or lights or anything that made it seem like a legitimate thing, but someone had set up a fake city backdrop behind his desk. The white-haired captain also took a second to notice that his paperwork was scattered all over the place and some of it even had scribbles of notes written across it.

He gritted his teeth. But as bad as his ruined office was, he could make the people who'd ruined it clean the mess. The paperwork...well, he could try and make his lieutenant re-do all of it, but he was better off doing it again himself. And this was all a total nuisance, but it wasn't _quite_ worth whipping out Hyourinmaru...

There was a single second in which Izuru and Shuhei thought they might just get away without losing a very important appendage due to severe frostbite. But then—

"Hey, Captain!" Rangiku gushed, nearly tripping over Ikkaku's limp body as she jumped up. "Isn't the show great? It was my idea, but I got Shuhei and Izuru to do it for me. You wanna be a guest star? You should since you just won a title for being so short!"

Well, _crap_.

Three, two, one—

"**MATSUMOTO!**"

* * *

><p>So, this could be a one-shot, but I kind of want to keep it going. I actually have a sort of feel for what I might do for chapter two. But I'll only do that if people want me to because there's really no point in me writing something that isn't going to get read. And if you, dear reader, by chance want me to keep this going, if you could give me any ideas that would be awesome. I can't guarantee I won't take what you say and turn it into a twisted, deformed ball of absolute crack, but I do like gathering inspiration from readers. Anyway...it's all up to you guys now.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Bleach, but I do have a playlist on my iPod that consists of all songs that make me **_**think**_** of Bleach. It's called "Cleaning Supplies." Aren't I so clever?**

* * *

><p>It is a little known fact that there is a generously-sized supply closet next to the room in which the captains hold their meetings. The fact that Head Captain Yamamoto likes to take long naps in that very same closet is an even less known fact and it was something the old man liked to keep under wraps.<p>

Unfortunately for him, his secret was about to be found out by none other than the hosts of _The Late Night Shinigami Show_, Izuru and Shuhei, along with their audience, Rangiku and Ikkaku.

After Captain Hitsugaya forcibly removed them from his office—and banned all of them except his lieutenant from the tenth squad barracks—they were in desperate need of a new place to perform their beloved show. Izuru suggested a hidden supply closet that his former captain had told him about (when asked _why_ he had been told about said supply closet, the lieutenant was suspiciously unresponsive).

The group stumbled upon a napping Yamamoto and _that_ is the short version of how he came the next guest on the show, stuck talking about property damage in a closet that smelled strongly of sake and bleach.

* * *

><p>"It's getting ridiculous," Shuhei said firmly. "I mean really, it seems like every time there's a fight, someone gets tossed into a building and it crumbles! That's someone's <em>home,<em> you know."

"In the middle of battle, there isn't really much you can do about it," Izuru pointed out. "What do you say? 'Hey, I know we're in the middle of a big fight and all, but if you could throw me a little bit to the left, that would be great. Thanks a bunch.'"

"Head Captain Yamamoto is on my side," Shuhei huffed and turned to the captain commander who was sitting next to him on a cardboard box full of sponges. "Aren't you, captain?"

There was no response.

"I think he's asleep," Rangiku said.

"Shut up, audience," Shuhei said. It had become an automatic response.

"What happened to 'the audience is always right'?" Rangiku demanded. Shuhei shook his head and opted not to answer.

He said, "Maybe we just need to make stronger buildings. Then they wouldn't break down so easily. Instead of getting thrown through the whole building, people would just...die."

"That's a _great_ idea," Izuru said with more sarcasm than he usually possessed. "I wonder why no one ever thought of_ that_ before."

"Be quiet!" Yamamoto thundered suddenly. "I was having a very nice dream..."

No one moved an inch or dared even breathe too loudly until the old man was steadily snoring again. He wasn't a very good guest for the show, Shuhei noted.

"So, back to talking about buildings," he announced. "As great as it is to have free windows made into your house, not everyone wants them. Solutions?"

"Maybe we could put wheels on the buildings and just move them out of the way every time a fight breaks out," Izuru suggested thoughtfully.

"Can we have a commercial break now?" Ikkaku asked as Shuhei was trying to figure out whether or not his fellow host was serious.

"You aren't supposed to ask for commercial breaks," Izuru reminded him. Ikkaku rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, talk shows aren't supposed to be stupid," he said.

"Yeah they are!" Rangiku protested. "And they're doing a great job at it!"

Ikkaku just smirked, his point proven.

Before Shuhei could explain to Ikkaku that _The Late Night Shinigami Show_ didn't have commercials—much less explain why—there was a loud crash.

"Uh-oh," he muttered. This was a very familiar sound, and just a little bit ironic considering that it was a symptom of today's topic.

"There goes another one," Izuru said. "Maybe if we had some windows in here, we'd be able to see who's fighting and—"

He was cut off when a dark form went flying straight through one wall, all the way across the closet, bursting out the door. The blur moved too fast to be identified, but if the blood splattered all over the place was any clue, the mysterious interrupter was currently engaged in battle. As Shuhei stared at the floor, it occurred to him that maybe this was why there was so much bleach in the closet.

A stunned silence followed.

"Awkward," Ikkaku said under his breath.

"DAMN IT!" Head Captain Yamamoto shouted, slamming his cane to the ground. Everyone else jumped and stared in surprise as the old man hobbled off, cursing loudly about money and how people really ought to, "Make an effort to be less destructive while trying to kill each other!"

"I told you he was on my side," Shuhei said triumphantly after a long pause.

"I think we're gonna need a new place," Rangiku observed, staring at the hole in the wall that had once been their set.

"And a new guest," Izuru chimed in.

"Maybe we could get whoever got thrown," Shuhei mused. "That would be good."

"Unless he's dead," Ikkaku said.

"Unless he's dead," Shuhei agreed before realizing exactly what he was saying and shooting the bald shinigami a strange look.

"If only my captain wasn't so uncooperative," Rangiku sighed.

"'Uncooperative' is one word for it," Shuhei said, although it was a far cry from _any_ of the words that _he_ would use.

"We need more sake," Ikkaku declared.

His companions were in full agreement with this so our brave heroes decided that after they were well and fully drunk, they would resume their quest for a new guest and location. As Shuhei would later proudly put it (once he had achieved an impressive state of total inebriation), "We've got no choice! Our viewers are depending on us."

* * *

><p><strong>And that's that. Reviews make me smile!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Before you read on, remember that crack is my drug. That came out wrong. What I meant was that crack is my specialty, so if this is really weird...I have no excuses left. I don't own Bleach and I don't own Lady Gaga's song "Hair." This is gonna be a funky combination...**

* * *

><p>"Are you guys sure about this?" Izuru asked uneasily.<p>

"Oh, please," Ikkaku scoffed. "We can take down anyone who comes around." The glint in his eyes suggested he almost hoped for one of the locals to show up. The Kusajishi district had a reputation after all.

The group had set up in an abandoned house in the Kusajishi district, sure that no meddling captains would run in and ruin their show. The locals had been an after thought.

"Stop worrying," Yumichika said, feathers fluttering. "It's not very beautiful."

Everyone had been at odds about having Yumichika as a guest. Shuhei insisted that he was probably the best out of anyone else in the Seireitei and it was ridiculous that they hadn't nabbed him before. Izuru protested that maybe Yumichika was a little bit _too_ good and might steal the show. Rangiku said Izuru was just scared of his emo haircut getting rightfully insulted. Ikkaku didn't have much of an input.

But the flamboyant shinigami was here and there was no going back. Besides, they were going to talk about hair and if anyone would be willing to talk about hair, it was Yumichika. That much was common knowledge.

"Why don't you start?" Shuhei said, gesturing to Yumichika. It seemed the the most host-ish thing to do.

"Hair," Yumichika said. There was a long dramatic pause before he spoke again. "It marks the identity of an individual. It can either make you a sheep or a rebel. Hair is everything. People are their hair."

"Well put," Izuru said. "Very well put."

"Just take Izuru for example," Yumichika said with a smile on his face. "He's got a ridiculously depressing hair-cut. But it's a bright, happy color, making you think he's some kind of poser. Maybe he should've paid more attention to a certain Espada?"

Ikkaku started to laugh loudly and Izuru shot him a dark look.

"I don't see why you're laughing since you have no hair at all," he said nastily. "_Baldy_."

Ikkaku's laughter stopped.

"What was that?" he demanded, jumping up.

"Are you deaf _and_ bald, Baldy?" Izuru asked him.

"I think Izuru is going through PMS," Rangiku whispered to her invisible friend sitting beside her. Much to her disappointment, there was no response.

"Let's go, emo boy!" Ikkaku roared before jumping at the blond host.

"Like I said," Yumichika told an alarmed Shuhei who was watching his companions break out into a wild fistfight, dignity forgotten. "Hair is everything."

"I guess so," Shuhei said.

"Let's look at these pictures I took of people with weird hair," Yumichika said cheerfully.

"Whoa, _what_?"

Yumichika pulled out a small computer and after some searching, found several pictures of none other than Ichigo Kurosaki. He turned the screen so the host of the show could see.

Shuhei was in no way a professional photographer, but it was painfully obvious that the subject of these pictures had been oblivious that he was being photographed. If he was aware, he probably wouldn't have been playing with dolls, but Shuhei was more wondering when Yumichika had taken these creeper pictures than anything else.

He wasn't given a chance to ask.

"Look! Look at this _orange_!" Yumichika said, waving his arms around. "The whole thing is messy and _orange_. But it works. Now let's talk about Captain Kuchiki's hair."

Shuhei didn't know how much of a good idea that was, but Yumichika wasn't giving him time to say a word, so he watched helplessly as more keys were pressed and the slide-show fast-forwarded to pictures of the highly intimidating captain. Yes, _The Late Night Shinigami Show_ had been entirely taken over in a matter of minutes.

"Do we really have to talk about his hair noodles?" Shuhei asked weakly.

"They have a name, you know," Yumichika said, although he never volunteered what that name was, making Shuhei wonder if he even knew. "They're just so weird," he continued, almost talking to himself. "I mean, _look_."

"I'm looking," Shuhei said. His eyes flickered to Yumichika's feathers. Feathers or hair noodles: _that_ was the question.

"I suppose it could be worse," Yumichika mused. Abruptly, he moved through the pictures of Captain Kuchiki and went on to a new subject, one that elated Rangiku.

"There's my captain!" she cried happily. And sure enough, the Shortest Shinigami himself was there, captured in the pictures. Unfortunately, he was simply doing paperwork.

"And his hair," Yumichika added. "Do you have any idea what he does to make it so defiant of gravity? More importantly, do you know _why_?"

"It adds a whole foot to his height," Rangiku said, pleased to be talking. Yumichika nodded.

"Compensating for something," he said. "Or adding to the fear effect. My captain does that. The giant spikes on his head with the little bells... Very scary indeed."

Yumichika pulled up creeper-photos of his captain and started flipping through them. "I really would've loved some pictures of the Arrancar and their hair," he said wistfully. "But they were...unavailable."

"What a shame," Shuhei said, not really meaning it but feeling utterly trapped. Ikkaku and Izuru were still rolling on the ground.

"The world is full of people with strange hair," Yumichika said. "Unfortunately, I can't go through all of them. It would cut into my musical number."

"Your musical number?" Shuhei repeated, blown away. Later on, he would ask himself why he was so shocked.

"It's only right," Yumichika said. "I'm going to sing a very beautiful song that I heard while I was in the world of the living on...personal business."

_In other words, you heard it when you were taking all those creeper pictures of Kurosaki._

But Shuhei wisely kept his thoughts to himself.

"Here we go!" Yumichika announced, jumping up. He pulled off the world's fastest outfit change and hit a button on the computer. Karaoke music began to play as a disco ball came down. Bright lights started to flash around, reflecting blinding light off Yumichika's sequenced suit that looked like something that might have come from _RuPaul's Drag Race. _

Ikkaku and Izuru stopped fighting and stared.

And then Yumichika began to sing.

"_Whenever I'm dressed cool,  
>My parents put up a fight.<br>(Uh huh, uh huh)  
>And if I'm hot shot,<br>Mom will cut my hair at night.  
>(Uh huh, uh huh)<br>And in the morning,  
>I'm short of my identity.<br>(Uh huh, uh huh)  
>I scream Mom and Dad,<br>Why can't I be who I want to be?  
>(Uh huh, uh huh) to be."<em>

Rangiku started to cheer loudly, waving her arms around. Shuhei started to back away uncertainly. Then he tripped over Ikkaku and Izuru. Yumichika noticed none of this and instead started flipping his own hair around.

"_I just wanna be myself,  
>And I want you to love me for who I am.<br>I just wanna be myself,  
>And I want you to know, I am my hair."<em>

Both Yumichika and Rangiku had lost themselves entirely in the song and were dancing. Rangiku had jumped out of her seat and was jumping around like she was at a concert and Yumichika was happily punching the hand that wasn't holding the microphone up in the air victoriously.

"_I've had enough, this is my prayer,  
>That I'll die living just as free as my hair.<br>I've had enough, this is my prayer,  
>That I'll die living just as free as my hair.<br>I've had enough, I'm not a freak,  
>I just keep fightin' to stay cool on these streets<br>I've had enough, enough, enough,  
>And this is my prayer, I swear,<br>I'm as free as my hair.  
>I'm as free as my hair.<br>I am my hair.  
>I am my hair."<em>

Then the door was busted in and everyone froze. The music continued to play in the background as the four shinigami saw a gang of Kusajishi locals who had heard the loud noises and come to investigate.

"Beep," Ikkaku said. Then he blinked. No way. Was he seriously being censored? He tried again. "Beep. Beep? BEEP! BEEEEEEEEEEP! Son of a beeping beeper! Beep! It did it again! Beep it!"

Izuru smirked.

Meanwhile, the Kusajishi locals were taking in the music, the lights, and the oddly dressed Yumichika holding a glittery microphone.

"This is great!" Yumichika cried. "I need background dancers and singers!"

With cheers of delight, the big, muscly gang ran forward to join him. Rangiku was as delighted as everyone else was disturbed.

"We lost a little bit of time with your interruption, but that's okay," Yumichika said and all together, the group started singing again, a little bit farther into the song than where Yumichika had left off.

"_Sometimes I want some raccoon  
>Or red highlights.<br>(Uh huh, uh huh)  
>Just because I want my friends,<br>To think I'm dynamite.  
>(Uh huh, uh huh)<br>And on Friday rock city,  
>High school dance.<br>(Uh huh, uh huh)  
>I've got my bangs to hide,<br>That I don't stand a chance.  
>(Uh huh, uh huh) a chance."<em>

Rangiku continued to jump up and down as the singers moved in a disturbingly perfect synchronized dance.

"It's like a flash mob!" she squealed, clinging to Ikkaku who was trying to scramble away. Ikkaku didn't have a clue what a flash mob was, but he was pretty sure that if it was anything like this, ignorance really was bliss.

"_I just wanna be myself,  
>And I want you to love me for who I am.<br>I just wanna be myself,  
>And I want you to know, I am my hair."<em>

More and more Kusajishi residents heard the racket and came to investigate. Pretty soon, the whole once-abandoned house was full of singing and dancing. Shuhei, Izuru, and Ikkaku searched desperately for a way out.

_"I've had enough, this is my prayer,  
>That I'll die living just as free as my hair.<br>I've had enough, this is my prayer,  
>That I'll die living just as free as my hair.<br>I've had enough, I'm not a freak,  
>I'm just here trying to play cool on the streets<br>I've had enough, enough, enough,  
>And this is my prayer, I swear,<br>I'm as free as my hair.  
>I'm as free as my hair.<br>I am my hair.  
>I am my hair."<em>

All thoughts of synchronized dancing were forgotten because everyone was content to abandon themselves in favor of the music. Control was relinquished and the singers just jumped around with Rangiku, belting out the words at the top of their lungs. Arms were waved around so wildly that it was a miracle no one lost an eye.

"I think it's time to go," Izuru said.

"We need Rangiku," Shuhei protested.

"_As free as my hair, hair, hair,  
>Hair, hair, ha-ha-ha-hair,<br>Hair, hair, hair,  
>Hair, hair, ha-ha-ha-hair.<br>As free as my hair, hair, hair,  
>Hair, hair, ha-ha-ha-hair<br>Hair, hair, hair,  
>Hair, hair, ha-ha-ha-hair.<br>Ha-ha-ha-hair."_

In the mass of writhing bodies, no one noticed Rangiku being dragged away by Shuhei, Izuru, and Ikkaku. Her flailing seemed like ordinary dancing, so no one wondered if she was getting kidnapped or something—which she technically was. Surrendering, the busty woman sang with the crowd, not stopping until she couldn't hear the music anymore.

"_I just want to be free, I just want to be me  
>And I want lots of friends that invite me to their parties.<br>I don't want to change, and I don't want to be ashamed.  
>I'm the spirit of my Hair, it's all the glory that I bare."<em>

"We didn't get to hear the end of the song," Rangiku said. She hadn't been let go of until they were almost out of the Kusajishi district.

"You heard enough of it," Shuhei said, still moving. "Besides, we have to do the show."

"The show comes first," Ikkaku said, even thought he didn't give a rat's ass about the show.

Rangiku sighed as stared back at the brightly-lit house. She said dejectedly, "Maybe we'll have another musical episode."

She was too busy looking at the house to see the looks of horror on the faces of everyone else. If she _had_ seen the looks on their faces, she would have known that there was no way in hell there was ever going to be another musical episode.

* * *

><p><strong>You know what I want for my seventeenth birthday? No, not Bleach. I want a flashmob in Safeway. The song will be "Another One Bites The Dust" by Queen and it will be bleeping amazing. Anyway, if anyone has any requests or ideas or any input at all, the "REVIEW" button is just a little bit farther down ;D<strong>


End file.
